You Got What I Need
by Paceismyhero
Summary: This is going to be a 4-part story based around a Puck/Rachel relationship. It picks up on the first day back at school after winter break, so everything that happened before still holds true. The rest, I imagine, will not  after Sunday's episode .
1. Chapter 1

Noah 'Puck' Puckerman walked through the halls of McKinley High School with unprecedented swagger. He had confidence oozing off of him, dripping onto the floor along with the drool from nearly every single girl he passed. He was like royalty in these halls, sometimes roaming them during class periods just to soak up the superiority he never felt while inside the classroom.

He'd never admit it to anyone, but he was glad to be back.

Winter break was three weeks of a long ass time, much of it spent in the accompaniment of his bat-shit crazy mother and annoying-as-all-Hell little sister. Every year it was the same thing, hours of time spent listening to his mother lecture on and on about the upcoming year and righting the wrongs of decisions past. Her dedication to their religion went into overdrive around Hanukkah, so much so that he had to beg Finn to lie for him one night when she smelled the pork from the BBQ joint they'd stopped by before coming back to his house to play video games.

"Sinner," Finn had jokingly muttered on their way upstairs to his room, resulting in a manly shove and a death threat growled in Puck's low timbre.

Sure, it was nice to get away and not have to worry about homework and tests and stuff, but since Puck didn't spend time worrying about those things to begin with, high school wasn't so bad. It was all about appearances, and he wasn't necessarily lacking in that area. It was only about 65 degrees in the school since the administration had tried to save money by keeping the heat off for as long as they could during break, but Puck was still walking around in his standard jeans and T-shirt. His guns were on full display, causing the ladies to swoon and the nerds to run in terror.

And run they should, as Puck made it his new year's resolution to make every single one of those snot-nosed dickwads pay for throwing him in the garbage last year. Mohawk or not, he was still one badass Jew with whom no one should trifle. He seriously considered going all Call-of-Duty on their pocket-protecting asses, but the threat of juvie (and maybe a little fear of J-Dog) kept his mindset relatively calm.

Besides, that incident was months ago; he had bigger fish (Karofsky was one seriously big fish) to fry. The second stringers – nicknamed that not only for their position on the football team but for how Puck envisioned their future – seriously needed an ass-whopping of the Smackdown versus Raw proportion. They were starting to run amuck on Puck's coveted turf, and he wasn't particularly down with sharing.

"Good morning, Noah."

Exhibit A: Rachel Berry.

"Sup?" He answered in practiced disinterest, involuntarily straightening his posture. His mother had pointed out to him the so-called reflex during temple last week, and ever since then he couldn't help but notice the truth in her words. Whenever Rachel was around – which was a lot over break; for her anyway – Puck had this innate urge to appear tougher. It seemed ludicrous (any tougher and he'd be a freaking marble statue), but it didn't alter the validity of his actions.

Something about Rachel made him act differently.

"I didn't see you in Health class earlier." Puck turned his attention to the wall opposite of Rachel's locker, the small clock showing that nearly half the day had passed already. One more class after lunch followed by a two-hour nap until Glee, and it would be time for football practice before he knew it.

"I see you're just as observant in 2011 as you were in 2010."

"And you're obviously continuing to aggressively seek mediocrity." Rachel rolled her eyes into the insult, forcing her locker shut with one hand while the other held her books close to her chest. "What happened to being nicer to your fellow Jews?"

"You've been asking that for the past two weeks. I thought you were intelligent, Berry."

"Clearly I have yet to learn my lesson when it comes to you, Noah."

She brushed past him before he could respond, though for the life of him he didn't know what he'd say. His go-to response was usually something crude mixed with a flair for immature or childish, but her quick retort had rendered him momentarily speechless. Rachel had a way of doing that to him, sometimes because of the massive amount of words she spoke (many of which were out of his vocabulary range) and sometimes because of the way she said them.

The latter was what was currently giving him pause, though.

Hadn't learned her lesson? Did she mean by continuing to talk to him in spite of his desperate attempt to appear apathetic (sometimes in a rude fashion) or did she mean something else? Something … more?

"Welcome back, midget!" Santana snarled as she passed the petite brunette, her perfectly manicured hand coming out of her cross-armed stance to knock Rachel's books to the ground. One of the Cheerios in training stepped on Rachel's packed lunch while another kicked a folder just out of Rachel's grasp, the flimsy material sliding all the way back to where Puck stood twenty feet away.

"Satan." Rachel addressed the Latina with practiced coolness, her voice neither quivering nor showing any emotion that might suggest Santana's words had been hurtful. The nickname, however, was one of Puck's and it didn't go unnoticed by him.

"You better be careful, Berry." Puck extended the folder out toward her, keeping a five-foot buffer between his body and hers. It was something else his mother had made note of, but he didn't have time to dissect that one. Again. "She'll cut you."

"I am not intimated by individuals who resort to violence in times that do not call for such behavior."

"Does that mean you condone violence in situations that do call for it?" He smirked at her agape mouth, pleased that he had not only managed to shut her up (a feat, no doubt) but also followed her somewhat convoluted sentence.

"There is certain merit to the modern male's attempt at sixteenth-century chivalry, coming to the defense of a damsel in distress." Rachel shrugged one of her shoulders, eventually coming to a stand.

"Whatever happened to you broads looking for the old-fashioned knight in shining armor?"

"Noah." The way she said his name sent chills down his spine, even when it came out in admonishment (as it usually did). "You have never been old-fashioned."

The smile that followed her remark was blinding, so wide and white that he almost had to look away. But he didn't. He didn't often get to see that smile, and he was even less often the cause of her happiness. So he continued to stare at her, lost in his thoughts about why he suddenly seemed to care about her happiness.

OK, maybe it wasn't so suddenly. There had been a brief time when her happiness had been his compass in life, guiding his decisions when he didn't necessarily trust his own judgment. Their relationship had been short – even by high school standards – but its effect on him had been long lasting. There wasn't a day that went by where he didn't think of one of their moments together, whether it had been their conversation in the restroom or the somewhat ugly breakup scene on the bleachers.

Her reappearance in his world had been somewhat unexpected, Rachel's perfect life with Finn and his less-than-stellar life behind bars two of many reasons he expected her to ignore him at all costs. Aside from glee, they didn't share any of the same friends. From his spot at the top and hers somewhat lower than the AV kids, he should have been able to ignore her completely. But he couldn't.

Again, something about Rachel made him act differently.

"Would it be old-fashioned of me to offer to buy you lunch?" He asked, presenting her with his arm just as he had done three weeks ago. If she remembered the gesture, she didn't show it. In fact, if anything, her smile widened as she encircled her arm into his and walked toward the cafeteria with him.

"I have been protesting to the board of directors for months to extend the range of alternative choices for those of us who have dedicated our lives to a healthier lifestyle, but unfortunately my protests have gone unanswered."

"Maybe you should try that duct tape thing again." She glared at him through the corner of her eye, stepping in line with him even though she clearly wasn't going to eat the hot dog or even the fries offered. "I'm just saying; it seemed to work the last time."

"I think you of all people would find less humor in the fact that Ken and Barbie were the opening act to what can only be considered our first loss at Sectionals."

"We tied, Rach."

She scoffed at him, clearly of the mindset that a tie wasn't good enough. And if Puck was being fair, the whole thing did smell of a pity win - a sad attempt by the judges to make everyone a winner. If Rachel had been given a solo, those fruits from The Warblers would have dropped out in embarrassment. She had the best voice in town - in many towns, and certainly bigger towns than shitty Lima, Ohio - and no amount of cuteness (Ken and Barbie's shallow attempt at the connection Finn and Rachel had last year during Regionals) or showmanship (Santana strutting around the stage during _Valerie_ like she wasn't sweating bullets) could ever deny that.

"That's it?" He asked, watching her look down at the small plastic bottle of soy milk with a frown.

"I'm a cheap date." She shrugged her shoulders softly, adding the beverage onto his tray before looking around self-consciously. Puck momentarily wondered if she was looking for Finn, but let that thought slide for now. "Besides, milk – even soy milk - does the body good."

"How long you've been drinking milk, babe?" He leered at her, taking the notably lewd comment for what it was worth, covering her lithe frame with his eyes.

"Noah." There was that tone again, followed by her standard roll of the eyes and he couldn't help but chuckle. He paid for her "meal" and his, moving to a table all by itself so they could continue talking. Puck noted the look of trepidation in Rachel's eyes, and he knew what had put it there. He also knew she'd never ask.

Even after two weeks of somewhat civilized friendship, she still expected him to sit with the rest of the football guys and pretend that the two of them had just happened to be next to each other in line. He could see it in her eyes, watched as they danced around the cafeteria while, amazingly, her already small body seemed to shrink into itself. It was like she was trying really hard to vanish. To act like she wasn't even there … looking back at him with the purest brown eyes he'd ever seen.

"All the milk in the world isn't going to help your bones from caving in on themselves if you keep sitting like that, Berry." His concern was masked by the harsh tone of his voice, and Rachel wasn't the type of person who made things like this easy. "If I didn't want to sit with you, I wouldn't be here."

God love her, Rachel cocked her head to one side, confusion etched on her face. She looked like a small dog, her eyes wide and searching Puck's from across the table. In retrospect, he probably shouldn't have laughed, but he couldn't help it. For someone who no doubt could party with Webster, sometimes the sincerest of words fell on her deaf ears.

"I'm having trouble figuring you out lately, Noah."

Puck inhaled a sharp breath, his own posture straightening along with hers. She popped the tab on her soy milk, sticking a straw into the creamy liquid before wrapping her pink, pouty lips over the opening of the device. He might have been in the middle of a nervous breakdown, but he was still a dude; he wasn't going to miss any subtle attempt – by Rachel or otherwise – at seductiveness.

"What's to figure out?" He eventually asked, demanding she finish her previous thought even though the answer could kill him.

All winter break they had gone back and forth, one day they were friends and the next enemies. She had been as understanding and perfect as always, but it was him who was running so hot and cold. There was part of him who couldn't let go of his reputation entirely. His physical prowess was the only thing in the whole damn town that had a bigger reputation than his am-badass-ador status, and those two qualities combined gave him a free pass to circumnavigate the teasing and bullying associated with the glee club, and even its lead member.

But there was another part of him - not as small as he hoped but at least not yet big enough to ignore the other part - that didn't care anymore. There had been a point where he tried to make glee cool, but even laced cupcakes couldn't help the jolly band of rejects from stepping into the mainstream. Homo Explosion (in hindsight he really wished he hadn't thought of that name) was always going to be at the bottom of the pedestal. And, frankly, he didn't care about his slushie-free education anymore.

Because he _craved_ her.

Printed sweaters, old-lady loafers, and obsessive behavior be damned, he wanted her. Not just what was hiding underneath those knee-high socks and short skirts, but the gentler stuff, too. He wanted to be the one who heard the soft murmur of her voice when spoken intimately, one on one. He wanted to be there when they won Regionals, her arms wrapping around his neck when she jumped up in joy. He wanted to be the one she stared at longingly from across the room.

Not Finn.

"I'm still sorry about that," he whispered, his head hanging down in shame (whether he was more ashamed of his extremely wussy thoughts or the pain that coursed through her eyes was up for debate). Even if she had planned on answering him (which he was pretty sure she hadn't), there was no turning back from a Finn trance. In true Rachel Berry fashion, however, she recovered quickly.

"Don't be." She nodded her head once in determination, setting him at ease. "All you did was simply lend a supportive ear and refuse to turn down my initial – albeit vulnerable – impure offer." She blew out a quick breath, her eyes eventually moving away from the tall quarterback and back toward him. "Your actions both that night and since have been nothing but admirable, Noah."

Again he wasn't quite sure what to say, so he simply lifted a shoulder complacently and crumbled his napkin up before tossing it onto his tray. Rachel seemed to detect his sudden introspection, distracting her usually talkative self with the rest of her meal. Puck managed a full minute of inward panic before he was forced to smile over her loud slurping, his eyes rolling at her lame attempt to garner his attention.

"Unlike you, I spent much of my break evaluating my past choices and how I might come into the new year with a better perspective on how to not just succeed professionally, but personally as well."

"And what exactly do you think I was doing all break?" He asks, somewhat hurt by her insinuation that he wasn't capable of picturing a better life for himself. Of all the people he never expected Rachel to resemble, Quinn was certainly at the top of the list.

"Given the conversation I had with your mother at temple last Friday, I am led to believe my previous assumption is somewhat spot-on." Noah groaned at the notion of Rachel and his mother sharing a conversation. No good could come from that. "But your absence from Health class today is another prime example in my arsenal."

"Will going to Math later get you off my back?"

"It's a start." She stood then, her smile wide even as she walked the fifty feet away from him to throw their garbage out, taking the time to recycle all the available pieces into the correct bins. He watched with an amused expression as she sauntered back to their table (theirs because no dared to sit with them as long as Rachel was at the table). They were both so caught up in their own game of cat and mouse that they didn't see Karofsky come around the corner, a bright red slushie tossed right in Rachel's face.

"Glee!" He announced with a sardonic chuckle, slapping high fives with three other football players while the rest of the cafeteria echoed in uncontrollable laughter.

Rachel sputtered some of the sugary drink out of her mouth, lifting her tiny hands up to her eyes to wipe them free of the frozen residue. Her eyes met Puck's in a desperate attempt at a connection, the sorrow in his doing nothing to stop her sudden dash out of the cafeteria. For a split second he contemplated following her, but then he had a better idea.

"Karofsky!" His voice boomed in the large room, the cackles of the cheerleaders and leftover amusement from the rest of the student body quickly evaporating. The stout linebacker turned around, facing his opposition with calculated bravery even as Puck grabbed a nearby student's tray of food. Puck surveyed the ingredients for a complete meal with little interest, letting it all fall to the floor while he patiently walked closer and closer to the second stringer.

"Puck!"

He turned at the sound of Finn's voice, one eyebrow lifting up in confusion at about the same time Karofsky's fist connected with Puck's right cheek. His giant friend quickly came to his rescue, pulling him up off the ground and away from the circling crowd and taunting doughboy. Teachers suddenly flooded the area from each entrance, Finn and Puck raising their hands in surrender.

"What is going on here?" Mr. Schuester asked, looking to Puck and then Finn. "Who started this?"

"He did, Mr. Schue! Honestly!" Finn pointed to Karofsky and his merry men, who were currently getting an earful from Coach Beiste.

"What happened?" This time Mr. Schuester looked to Puck for answers, but he didn't have any. He didn't know what had gotten into him, and he certainly didn't know why Finn had stopped whatever it was. "Why don't you both head to class early?"

"Yes, Sir." Finn obeyed their teacher's wishes, going over to the table he'd been sitting at with Quinn, Sam, Santana, Brittany and a few other "cool" people to grab his bookbag before leaving through the same door Puck had exited. "Puck. Wait up."

He did as requested, if only because Puck didn't really have anywhere else to go. It would be a cold day in Hell when he showed up to a class on time, let alone early. Besides, it was taking everything in him not to go search each of the girls' restrooms trying to find Rachel. And since he definitely didn't want to do that, he stopped.

"What's your deal, Finnessa?"

"How about some freaking gratitude, man?" Finn scoffed, adjusting the strap of his bookbag on his tall frame. "Unless your plan is to start the new year in juvie, then …"

"It's my business either way." Puck pushed back his friend, deciding a trip to the nurse might not be a bad idea, for more reasons than just a nap. His cheek was throbbing and a few doses of aspirin might relieve some of the pain.

"It wasn't worth it."

Puck stopped abruptly, turning to face Finn again in almost slow motion. His eyes were in slits as he evaluated his former best friend. They'd known each other since elementary school. They all had, in fact. It was a small town and they'd all gone to the same schools with the exception of Rachel. She had started elementary school in some special theater school, but had left during middle school in what she calls her attempt at a normal life. She now says the hardships that she's had to deal with since leaving her privileged education will only make her more versatile on stage, but Puck still couldn't help but wonder if she regretted it.

Finn was actually only a few inches taller than Puck, but he'd been that height since eighth grade. The basketball coach nearly came in his pants when they had come back from summer vacation and seen how much Finn had grown. That was probably the first instance of Finn outdoing Puck. Up until that point, they had been pretty even. They got along when they were younger because they were both boys and both the same age. They stayed friends because they actually had a lot in common despite all the obvious differences. There had been a time when they had balanced each other out, Puck getting Finn into a little harmless trouble while Finn kept Puck out of real legal problems.

But now they were older, and the things that held them together before just weren't cutting it anymore for Puck.

"_What_ isn't worth it?" He finally asked, pleading with his eyes for Finn to (for once!) think before he spoke. If he dared say that it wouldn't have been worth it to smack that tray right cross Karofsky's round, pudgy face because _Rachel_ wasn't worth it, then he and Finn were going to throw down. There was no bro code that could save him.

"Picking a fight over a slushie facial." Finn seemed exasperated, and Puck half-wondered if the tall teen was simply mirroring Puck's expression. "It won't change anything. You'll be sent to juvie and the same thing will happen all over again tomorrow."

"Well maybe that's the problem." Puck shook his head, wondering why everyone put Finn on such a high pedestal. If anyone really kept track of the number of times he chose wrong over right, they'd see he wasn't the saint everyone made him out to be.

"What the hell is your problem lately? Ever since winter break you've been acting like a dick to me and I don't get it. If anyone should be pissed, it's me."

Puck took a threatening step forward, stopping only when he saw Rachel step out of the girls' restroom down the hall. Her hair was pulled back into a high ponytail and she wore a pair of tiny black shorts and a form-fitting red T-shirt with McKinley written in black in the center. It was her modified gym uniform, both sexy as hell and adorable at the exact same time.

The definition of Rachel Berry.

"You have no idea how lucky you are."

His response came out in a growl, his words surprisingly accurate for the question Finn previously posed. King Hudson really had no idea how lucky he was, both at that moment and in life in general. Walking down the hallway, both reasons were staring back at him with a crestfallen expression.

"Don't worry your pretty little head off, Berry. I wasn't going to hurt your precious Finn."

"Finn is of little concern to me, Noah." Rachel shook her head, her hands coming to rest on her hips even though her eyes never left his. "I'm more concerned with the growing bruise developing on your otherwise chiseled face." She didn't give him a chance to respond, grabbing his hand and leading him down the hallway. They passed Finn with two entirely different looks, Rachel's a little more civil than Puck's. "Excuse me! Medic!"

The nurse came around the corner of the office, her eyes furrowed at the sudden outburst and following list of injuries (spoken in words usually left for reruns of _ER_). Rachel made the poor elderly woman show her some identification, eventually claiming that her lack of a white lab coat gave Rachel cause to assume the worst. Puck and the nurse shared a look, hers a little more befuddled than Puck's. After all, he was sort of used to Rachel's craziness by now.

There was little that could be done, but the nurse did give him the aspirin he was seeking before ushering both he and Rachel out of her office. She made one comment about him being "patched up" and then had taken up an odd bout of silence. It was nice being with Rachel, especially when you didn't have to mentally flip through a thesaurus to understand what the hell she was saying, but anyone who knew her knew quietness was a red flag.

"I leave you alone for five minutes …" she trailed off, shaking her head up at him. How a girl nearly a foot shorter than he was managed to intimidate him, Puck would never know. "What are we going to do with you, Noah?"

"I can think of a few things." His patented response came in handy this time, covering up his internal struggle between those two dueling parts. The bell for the end of lunch just rung and the halls were filling back up with their fellow classmates. Part of him itched to roll his eyes and remind Rachel that there wasn't a "we" where they were concerned.

But the other part wished that weren't true.

"Go to math."

"And then maybe?" He asked, happy she gave him a way out.

"And then I'll see you in glee."

Puck bowed his head, hiding the small smile that formed on his face. For all her insecurities, which could no doubt give her plenty of reason to cling to his popularity and demand his attention, she seemed to be sensitive to his sudden split personality. Her willingness to take things as they come was certainly new, but he was never more grateful for it than at that moment … on his way to math.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: Considering this is my second time writing this exact note, obviously I'm still trying to figure out how to work this darn contraption. It's worth the effort because I really wanted to thank every single person who is reading and responding (or following ...). I was hesitant about even writing this fic, let alone posting it (*mumbles* Thanks, Jann). I really wanted to post this chapter before tonight's episode, just so the entire thing doesn't become obsolete. So, please enjoy and let me know what you think!

* * *

By the time glee started, the story of what happened in the cafeteria had been altered so much that even Puck wasn't sure how it all went down anymore. There was whispering in the hallways that were close to the truth – he wasn't really sure how the tale about the loose cheetah came about and frankly he didn't want to know - but everyone was leaving out one minor detail: Puck coming to Rachel's defense.

The story had turned from Rachel being slushied and Finn stopping Puck from being sent back to juvie for knocking out Karofsky's front teeth with one of the cafeteria trays to something entirely different. Something that featured Finn coming to _Puck's_ rescue, and Karofsky swinging up to punch Finn, who ducked out of the way, Karofsky's fist accidentally hitting Puck instead.

If he were the type of person who cared what people were saying about him, he'd point out that Finn had the lateral movement of a great white shark.

On land.

In the winter.

"Alright guys!" Mr. Schuester entered the room in a particularly good mood, which was unusual for the first day back. Teachers might claim to love their jobs and be in it for the kids and whatever, but they craved the time off just as much as anyone. Despite what the students wanted to believe, the teachers had lives, too. Sad, pathetic, boring lives, but lives nonetheless. "I hope you enjoyed your break, but I'd like to hear some evidence that the time off was not a waste."

Puck looked to his left across the row of chairs at Santana. She was filing her nails and hadn't even acknowledged Mr. Schue's presence. Whenever she did look up, she stared directly at Sam. Puck smiled to himself, remembering a time when that look might have made him jealous, or at least hot. Now he just felt sorry for the blond kid, knowing his life was about to be ruined.

"I, for one, spent countless nights thinking of songs we could feature at Regionals. And let me be the first to applaud your effort to showcase this club's many talents, but remind you that we will not make it to Nationals on a tie." Rachel scowled at Sam and Quinn, her arms crossing in front of her chest. Puck laughed lightly, wondering how Rachel found it in herself to be so self-righteous when she was sitting all alone at the end of the front row of chairs.

"Rachel's right. We'd definitely have to take a plane to New York, not a tie." The few seconds of silence that often followed any of Brittany's contributions to the conversation gave Santana enough time to put her plan into action.

"Speaking of tie, you left yours at my place after the Beauty and the Beast's wedding." The Latina's eyes trained on Quinn even though she was clearly speaking to Sam. Puck closed his eyes, not needing to see Quinn's face fall or Sam's face redden under the scrutiny of the rest of the club. Despite her desperate attempt to work herself back into the popular ring, Quinn had grown up a lot after everything last year, which is why her response to Santana's remark was one passing glance at Sam before excusing herself for the rest of the day.

"What the hell is your problem?" Finn asked in frustration, the kid on freaking repeat today. "Is it your goal to ruin everyone's life in this club?"

"Please! I did you a favor, Finnocent!"

"Guys!" Mr. Schuester made his first attempt to rein the club back in, but it was no use. He'd stopped the battle at Sectionals, but now it was time for war.

"We were both drunk!" Sam shouted, standing up and stepping toward Santana. "It didn't mean anything and you _promised_ not to tell Quinn."

"I didn't tell Quinn. She inferred."

"Big word for a big mouth," Puck chimed in, feeling like throwing a verbal punch while it was allowed. Mr. Schuester had left the room, maybe trying to make the club guilty but ultimately just giving them time to hash out all their grievances with one another. Unfortunately, Sam had stormed out and Mercedes and Artie weren't going to have anything to say. Brittany was occupied inside her own mind, Lauren was out sick today, and the Asians were noticeably absent from practice despite being present and accounted for during school today. Regardless, that only left Finn, Santana, Puck, and Rachel.

But Rachel knew better than to say anything in this situation. Right? Puck sighed, watching the feisty girl spring from her seat and jut out her index finger accusingly toward Santana. Wrong.

"You are absolutely deplorable, Santana. How can you sit up there and pretend to be a human being when every decision and action you make has such irrevocable damage on those around you, some of which you claim to be your friends?"

"Don't lump yourself into that category, RuPual." Santana uncrossed her arms, prepared to fight. "We aren't friends. We'll _never_ be friends because you'll _never_ be anything." Santana grinned like a cat, the corners of her mouth turning upward as the evil poured off of her. "Without Finn, you don't matter."

"You don't matter!" Rachel practically yelled, standing up for herself in what might be the inaugural event. Maybe she really had made some resolutions for 2011. "You make it your goal to bring down everyone else because the truth is that you are miserable. Sam and Quinn. Finn and I. Brittany and Artie. Everyone had someone and you had no one." Santana stood slowly but with purpose, only Rachel wasn't backing down. "You disguise your loneliness under a guise of seduction but the only one you end up fooling is yourself!"

"Break it up!" Mr. Schuester came in at the nick of time, stepping between the two girls before what was no doubt going to be the hottest cat fight on the face of the Earth. Santana was fuming, though, storming out of the room after pushing Mr. Schuester out of her way. He sighed and followed her, always trying to do what was best for his students.

Poor guy.

Rachel eventually sat back down, staring straight ahead even while the rest of those left in the room were looking right at her. Mercedes and Artie were still in a bit of shock, and Brittany quite possibly missed the whole thing. It was only Finn and Puck's responses left that would set the tone for the whole thing, and Rachel naturally looked to Finn first.

"Way to go, Berry," he interrupted Finn and Rachel's shared look, seeing the horror in Finn's eyes and not appreciating it. Finn was about to tell her that she shouldn't have done that, but he was wrong. Just because it was easier to sit back and take the punch didn't mean it was the right thing to do. "It's about time you stood up for yourself."

"Thank you, Noah." Rachel again locked eyes with Finn and Puck wanted to kill himself, that's until he heard what she had to say. "I figured since no one else was going to stand up for me, I should finally do it myself."

One short statement left the choir room silent again until Mr. Schuster showed up. Puck was shocked that Rachel worked up the nerve to not only say the truth, but say it in front of Finn. And Finn, for all his dumb obliviousness, completely understood what she meant and kept his mouth shut for the rest of glee practice.

"I can see we are not going to get any real work done today, but I do have news that affects everyone in this room." Mr. Schuester waited for some interruption, honestly surprised when met with more deafening silence. "As many of you are already aware, the football team is competing in the state championship this Saturday, and since we do not have a marching band, Principal Figgins has asked the glee club to perform a half-time number."

Mr. Schuester barely paused, simply putting his hand up to stop Rachel's onslaught of questions. "Yes, the football players in the club will be performing as well, and yes I realize this is short notice. Right now the cheerleaders are exempt from the performance since their tournament is the same day in Columbus, so that means we'll need 110 percent from those available."

Rachel impatiently raised her hand, Mr. Schuester pointing to her on a sigh. "How does Mr. Figgins expect us to pull this together in time? There is choreography, costumes, rehearsals … does he think we just pick a song out of a hat and do the Macarena to it?"

"It's going to be tough, but come on, guys. You've done an entire routine in just a few hours, without my help." Rachel again looked to Finn, more than likely thinking that his leadership had been the cause of their togetherness at that particular moment. "I fully encourage everyone in this room and those who have left to leave the dramas of high school behind and do your best to come together as a team."

"I'll do what I can, Mr. Schuester." Rachel shook her head, standing to gather her stuff. Puck could hear the wheels in her head turning from his spot on the other side of the room, and suddenly he had an urge to prove to Rachel that he had leadership skills, too.

"Mercedes, Artie and Brittany, you guys should hook up with Chang and Tina and work on some super fly dance moves. Finn can smooth everything up between Sam and Quinn and Santana, and Rachel and I can meet up tonight to find the perfect song."

"Wow … uh, thanks, Puck." The fact that Mr. Schuester was so surprised by Puck's contributions to the discussion was kind of upsetting, especially after all the crap he'd said to Puck before break. He wasn't just another popular guy who could be used to recruit new members. He actually really liked glee, and Mr. Schuester knew that. "You guys are good to go, but I actually need to talk to Mercedes and Rachel."

If the situation had been flipped, with the girls on the other side of that statement, they would have asked questions. They would have wondered why the boys were being singled out and wondered from what they were being excluded. Puck and Finn, however, for all their differences, were both men. They simply nodded and exited the room without another look, pleased to get out a few minutes earlier than usual.

Maybe for once they wouldn't have to run an extra ten laps for being late to football practice.

"Puckerman!" He visibly flinched at Coach Beiste's coarse tone, walking back to her office inside the locker room and stepping inside. "You're early."

"Schue let us out." Less was more, Puck figured.

"Good. We have a tough practice ahead of us in preparation for the championship game, and I need you guys to be on you're A-game."

"You got it, Coach." Puck bobbed on his feet, his hands moving into his pockets slowly. "Is … that all?"

"No." Puck sighed, having already guessed. "We're going to be trying out a lot of new things today, so I'm going to need your complete focus. No screwing around, and if you even think about questioning me, you're off the team, too."

"Too?"

"Suit up!" She demanded, Puck backing away quickly when he realized he already disobeyed her request.

The locker room was unusually quiet, even for Puck and Finn, who usually came in late thanks to glee. The two didn't speak, simply put on their football gear and ran outside to the field. It was freezing outside (not unusual for January in Ohio), but the twenty laps they did at the start of every practice warmed them up considerably.

Comfortably sweating, Finn finally had the gall to ask the inevitable question. "Coach, where is everybody else?" Some of the football players surrounding Finn seemed offended, but none said anything. Aside from Sam, Artie, Mike and a couple others, they were all second and third-string players, so they were probably just as curious as to why they suddenly looked like they'd be starting in Saturday's game.

"After the events at lunch today, Mr. Karofsky was expelled." Puck and Finn's eyes both doubled in size. "His bullying had finally gone too far, and he was removed from the building. Unfortunately, he convinced some of his friends to quit the team in protest of his 'wrongful dismissal' and then more quit after catching wind of my new offensive plan."

"Which is?"

"Well, I could tell you, but I'd much rather show you." Coach Beiste pointed to the other side of the football field, the twenty pairs of eyes following the general direction. Some groaned in response while others couldn't say anything. Even Puck, who usually had a smart-ass comment for every situation, found his brain unable to fathom what was happening.

Was that _Rachel_ in a _football uniform_?

"Coach!" Finn finally found his voice, the baritone pitch booming in the quiet area. "You have to be kidding?"

"Do you have something against women playing football, Hudson?" There was no right way to answer that, but Finn was too dumb to know that.

"Of course not, Coach. But … it's _Rachel_." His hands lifted in exasperation, one coming down with a smack while the other moved to point in the petite brunette's direction. "Karofsky could have willing eaten her for breakfast and you are going to let her play _football_ during a _championship_ game?"

"While I appreciate your concern, Finn, I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I happen to be very light on my feet, and if you would have taken the time to come watch me during my ballet recital, you would already know that."

Finn groaned into Rachel's diatribe, Puck actually finding it within himself to laugh. The entire situation just got more ridiculous when Tina and Mercedes started running down the field, Lauren meandering behind them (wasn't she sick?). First the cripple, now girls. They weren't just going to lose. They were going to lose bad, while being laughed at … a lot.

"Ready when you are, Coach." Mercedes made eyes at Anthony, and Puck was just happy they had one decent player still on the team besides him, Finn, Mike, and Sam.

"Let's see how much of the plays you guys had a chance to learn." Coach Beiste threw the football at Sam. "You're the quarterback."

"What the hell?" Finn shouted, his entire world crashing in on him. "I am the starting quarterback!"

"If you keep up this attitude, you'll be lucky to be the first string waterboy!" Finn shut up quickly but did so with a pout. "Sam's going to be quarterback because _you'll_ have to play linebacker. You too, chuckles."

Puck sighed, figuring that was coming. Clearly Rachel and Tina were going to be running backs, their size useless for anything but speed. Lauren and Mercedes would probably be on the defensive line, which might actually be an improvement from Karofsky's friends. They were still going to lose, but maybe the score wouldn't be too terribly embarrassing.

"Run the play!" Coach shouted, stepping off the field while muttering to herself. The shouting and the muttering didn't stop until the end of practice, when she had told the group to hit the showers and Puck said Rachel could share one with him. After that he was ordered to run another twenty laps, while Coach and the girls stood on the sidelines discussing plays, practices, and their supposed roles in Saturday's game. They finished talking at almost exactly the same time he was done running.

"Last chance, Berry." Puck wiggled his eyebrows in her direction, leaning into her personal space for just a moment before continuing his trek toward the showers. Mercedes made a joke about his body odor before proceeding to the girls' restroom, Rachel calling out his name when everyone else had left. "What?"

"Did you mean what you said?" That was a loaded question if he ever heard one, so he waited for her to clarify. "At glee, about choosing a song together?"

It was Puck's turn to mimic the actions of a new puppy learning tricks, his head cocking the left as he evaluated her. On the surface, Rachel Berry presented herself with unwavering confidence. She had an opinion about everything and a correct answer for any unasked question. But inside she was as lost as the rest of them, trying to find her place in a world that didn't necessarily appreciate those who were just trying to be themselves.

Even Puck found himself losing his footing from time to time.

"Because, frankly, we don't have a lot of time to mess around and if you were just saying those things so Mr. Schuester …"

"I meant it, Rach." Puck rolled his eyes, trying not to smile when Rachel's bright one overtook her face. There was the very rare shy and timid Rachel and then the bright, happy Rachel who they most often saw. There was no in between. It was always one of two extremes. "What do you say we shower and meet back up at my truck? I'll drive you home and we can work on the halftime show for a couple of hours at your place."

She agreed with an enthusiastic nod, practically skipping to the girl's restroom. Puck was the last to claim a shower in the locker room, but the guys didn't do much more than rub some soap into their hair and underarms and rinse off. And even if he had planned on lingering, the chatter from those changing left little to be desired. Everyone was either bitching and moaning about girls being on the field or they were stating in graphic detail their every fantasy regarding the girls being on the field.

Puck tended to favor on the side of the latter, but he figured it was best to keep quiet when he was already sneaking away from the ritualistic guy time. Rachel had actually beaten him to his truck, standing outside the vehicle in enough winter gear to keep a polar bear warm in the Arctic. He already heard the story last week about how she had hand-knitted the beanie and matching scarf last year during break, and the coat had been a gift this year from one of her fathers.

"I see you managed to shower just fine without me."

"Just because you weren't there in body doesn't mean you weren't there in spirit." He didn't feel bad about making such comments to her, not when she had seemingly grown accustomed to them in their recent attempt at friendship. And also not when she led him on like that. "And I'm not just talking about me."

"Please. I do not need the mental imagery of you Neanderthals gathered around a shower sharing intimate details of your latest conquests." Rachel rolled her eyes, accepting Puck's gentlemanly gesture of opening her door by hopping up onto the passenger side seat. He barely had his door open before she spoke up again. "Did Sam say anything? In regards to Quinn?"

"She dumped him."

Rachel took a few moments to absorb this information, absently watching the passing scenery as Puck guided his truck through the school's parking lot and then toward Rachel's house. He knew the way like the back of his hand, if not because of it being a small town then because Puck himself only lived a few blocks away. Finn lived a few blocks away from him, and Quinn lived on the complete opposite side of town (which was still only about a fifteen minute drive).

"You must be pretty happy about that." Puck turned his attention to her for a moment, forcing his eyes back onto the road when he saw her grip the door handle a bit tighter. "I just mean … last year … you and Quinn …"

"That was last year." His answer was evasive at best, but it was really all he had at that particular moment. With those two parts of him continuing their internal battle, he couldn't offer her anything more. "Much like you, I'm trying to turn over a new leaf."

"I've noticed."

He smirked in her direction, pulling in her driveway in a quick, fluid motion. He hesitated before getting out, finally relenting on just following her inside as she moved from the car to her house without breaking for an extra breath. She explained the entire situation about glee and football to her fathers almost as quickly, Puck finding himself sitting on the soft mattress of her bed and not quite knowing how he'd gotten there.

"Today was actually my first encounter with American football, and since my dads are gay there tends to be more musicals on the television than SportsCenter." Rachel sifted through her music collection as she spoke. "I understand Saturday's game is pretty important, and since the audience will be primarily men, I think it would be best if the glee club did a classic rock song, but maybe paired with something well known … for the younger crowd."

"Sounds good."

Puck bobbed his head, letting her take the reins as he took in his surroundings. Despite the handful of times they had hung out over break, it had always been at his house. The first time she came over simply to drop off some cookies for his mom, but then she ended up staying for dinner and then learning the basics of Modern Warfare. The next time she was helping his sister with some girl issue, and the time after that they'd ran into each other at the store. After that, she didn't really need an excuse.

She seemed to enjoy his company, and he likewise.

But being back in this room, the place he hadn't been in more than three weeks, changed everything. Their friendship was a façade and the reason why was written in blood on the walls. Nothing had changed since that night, not the situation and not any of the people involved. And any indication that they had or were going to was just his mind playing tricks on him.

Right?

"Rachel," he stopped her monologue, waiting for her to pause the music, too. He hadn't even been listening to what she was saying, let alone why she had put in a Bruce Springsteen CD. The glee assignment was important, but he couldn't focus on it until his head was relatively clear of all this nonsense. "What did you mean earlier today, when you said you haven't been able to figure me out lately?"

"Noah, this halftime show is in approximately one hundred and fifteen hours and we need to …"

"We will," he assured her while still putting his foot down.

Rachel was the kind of person who demanded control, but he also knew she liked it when people pushed back. To some degree, it might be the one thing Puck could do better than Finn. Whipped was the word Puck chose to use the most in the locker room or around school, but the real truth was that Finn was spineless, and to the millionth degree when it came to Rachel. He'd do anything she asked because, in his head, he cared about her so she deserved to get her way. And Puck would be lying if he said he didn't care about Rachel, but he also wasn't worried about hurting her feelings. Rachel was a strong person – freakishly so in terms of her brute strength in proportion to her size – who needed a strong man.

A man like him.

"But this first."

Rachel sighed, her hands eventually falling to her sides. She slowly made her way to the edge of her bed, sitting on the empty spot next to him. Her hands wringed together on her lap as she considered her words, and Puck nervously lifted his hand up and rested it on top of hers. The gesture didn't exactly have the calming effect for which Puck hoped, Rachel's head turning so quickly that he swore he heard her neck snap. Her eyes nearly burned holes into his head until he turned to face her.

They stayed like that for a long while, both of them just staring at the other. Puck tried not to focus on the heat scorching through his hand and up his arm, but it was hard to ignore the feeling when it was quickly consuming his entire being – including, obviously, his brand new vagina. He felt it all the way down his toes and even, for a second, could sense it somewhere deep inside his heart. He never understood how such a tiny person could have such a big impact on his life, but at that moment he couldn't deny it either.

Because at that moment, she leaned in and kissed him.

It was tentative at first, her lips brushing softly against his before she pulled back an inch or two and looked back up into his eyes. They hadn't closed since she'd caught him off guard anyway, and she seemed to almost gasp at whatever she saw floating around in his brown orbs before crushing her lips against his again. This time his eyes not only closed, but Puck felt his lips react to her contact.

Rachel's hands quickly moved to wrap around his neck, Puck's hand falling off hers and into her lap. She sighed at the new contact, repositioning herself so one of her knees was bent on the bed while the other still hung over the side. Puck simply kept his torso turned toward her, his hand splaying across the outside of her bare thigh and tightening when he heard a quiet moan from low in Rachel's throat.

Before he knew what was happening, they were scooting up further onto her mattress, Puck's body eventually hovering over hers. Rachel's hands were under his T-shirt and the hand of Puck's that wasn't still pressed against the small of her back (the one keeping most of his weight off her tiny frame) was slowly creeping past her hips toward her breasts. When the tips of his fingers brushed against the bare expanse of her stomach, Rachel moaned again and arched up into him.

Again, anyone who knew Rachel knew that was a red flag.

"Wait, wait, wait." Noah literally shook his head, trying to clear his mind and maybe his conscience as he _once again_ stared down at a ready and willing Rachel while pulling away. Her chest was heaving and her lips were swollen and pink, the same look of confusion and rejection pooling in her eyes. It was so much like déjà vu (down to the very last detail) that Puck wondered if he was in the fucking Matrix or something.

"What's wrong this time?" Her voice wasn't as timid as it had been last time, and there certainly hadn't been as much frustration in her tone as there was right then. Rachel lifted onto her elbows, and Puck adjusted his spot above her to make up for the loss of space between them. She again sighed heavily, falling back flat while he moved to a sitting position on the side of the bed, his head sagged down staring at the floor. "Is this about Quinn?"

"No?" His answer came out as a question, which when he turned to face her again he could tell that she thought he was lying. The opposite was true, though. It wasn't about Quinn. Quinn had been the furthest thing from his mind at that point, and the inflection at the end of his voice wasn't hesitance but confusion. Puck was confused how such a seemingly bright girl could honestly be so daft.

Did he have to spell it out for her? F-I-N-N.

"If it's not Quinn, then it has to be me." He hated himself for letting her continue, for not stopping her right there and pointing out all of the many reasons she was wrong. "You're used to the Quinns and the Santanas of the world, and what am I?"

The word _everything_ instantly came to mind and Puck had to stand up to keep from saying it. He had to leave. Those two parts of him weren't ready for this discussion and he had to leave. He had to put more distance between them. He had to punch something.

"You're growing up." Her sudden response stopped his retreat, his hand pressed against the knob of her bedroom door. Slowly he turned and faced her again, avoiding her piercing stare while she continued to speak. "You asked me why I'm having trouble figuring you out, and the main reason is because you're growing up." He leaned against the wood of the door, watching her now that he could sense her head was down. "I know you don't like to talk about it, but I know how much giving up Beth hurt. You tried to deny it for so long, but obviously you're dealing with it now."

Puck looked away again before she could lift her head, afraid of what else she might be able to see if he let her see his eyes. She'd already done such a good job at dissecting him as is; he didn't need her to see his face crumble at the thought of his daughter. The decision to give her up (good or not) had been the hardest in his entire life and he tried to play it cool, tried to pretend the experience hadn't changed him (much like Quinn was doing now as she tried to claw her way back to the top), but it had.

"You might be Puckasarus to everyone else, but I know you a little better than that, Noah." She finally stood, taking a few tentative steps closer to him and Puck felt his back press against the door a little harder even as he closed his eyes and swallowed hard. "You don't just crash cars and steal ATMs." When he opened his eyes again, she was right in front of him, looking up into his eyes with so much emotion that he couldn't help but think she was going to be famous one day. "You're better than that."

Rachel lifted to her tiptoes, her hands resting against Puck's chest while she once again closed the distance between the two of them with a soft kiss. For a split second Puck wondered if he could get used to it, the soft-spoken words and the tender embraces, and the next he was thinking about how it wasn't always like that with Rachel. Her passion wasn't limited to music and theater, but rather carried over in everything she did. Unlike him, Rachel didn't do _anything_ half-assed and instead managed all her responsibilities and endeavors with an equal mix of rigor and precision.

He could learn a lot from her.

"I'm sorry," Puck said, allowing his forehead to rest against hers for a moment. It was strange that even as he was grabbing her shoulders and pushing her away from him that he still sought and found comfort in her touch. Rachel's eyes instantly watered up, his glassy reflection starring back at him, mocking him. _You don't deserve her_, it said.

And it was right.

"I gotta get the hell out of here."


	3. Chapter 3

So I knew this entire update was going to be ruined by Sunday's episode, but hopefully y'all still find time to enjoy this story as I've created it. We have one more part after this, and I'll probably post it a few days from now (assuming I write it that quickly. haha). Once again I want to say thank you for reading, and I hope you continue to do so (for other crazy ideas I have in my head and are in the process of getting onto "paper"). Enjoy!

* * *

The football game wasn't an entire disaster like everyone thought it was going to be, but it wasn't going great either. They were surprisingly only down by two touchdowns, but the McKinley High Titans were sorely under-represented and growing weaker by the minute. Halftime was the perfect opportunity for everyone to rehydrate and rest up, but unfortunately the glee kids had to scramble to clean up quickly and make it back to the middle of the field for their performance.

Despite a rather lengthy lecture about the club's song choice after their first assembly performance, Mr. Schuester seemed to be of the mind that a halftime show was all about provocative-ness and entertainment value. It was an extra performance that wasn't being judged, and considering how hard everyone was working that day, they deserved to have some fun. Sans wardrobe malfunctions.

Still, when Puck came into glee that next day and said that he and Rachel agreed on a mashup of The Pussycat Doll's "Don't'cha" and Michael Jackson's "Beat It" – eloquently titled "Don'tcha Wanna Beat It?" – Mr. Schuester had some conditions. The first to go was the name, though Puck didn't put up much of a fight. He'd only suggested it for the laugh anyway, which everyone had; even Rachel had let out a small giggle, but Puck had tried not to notice.

After that, Mr. Schuester wanted to approve all the choreography and the arrangement. He and Rachel paired up to pull apart the two songs and blend them together harmoniously while Brittany and Mike took the reins on the dance steps even though Brittany wouldn't be performing. The next couple of days they worked on the performance for an hour and then went to football practice for an hour. They were so wrapped up in preparations that it actually gave everyone a break from all the drama surrounding their lives.

Until halftime, of course.

Thanks to their round-robin of relationships, the typical pairings in glee club were too volatile. Mr. Schuester wanted everyone to put the club first and consider how well each pair's voices complimented one another, but Rachel had argued that the halftime performance might be a good time to discover newer, better pairings. Considering the performance was relatively safe, with no risk of diminishing their chances at Regionals, it was the perfect opportunity to test new methods. Maybe what they thought was great had really only been adequate, the new pairings possibly being the key to clinching the title.

For the choreography to work, the people that needed to avoid each other needed to be placed two people apart, which wasn't easy in the group of ten. Luckily with Brittany and Santana out for the cheerleading competition the group was evenly matched with boys and girls, but that had only been thanks to Quinn and her sudden retirement from the Cheerios. She had said she was sick of being on a team that only cared about results, but for all her passive aggressive comments about Sam and Santana and their urge to be on top, no one was quite convinced she was willing to give up the throne yet. Without the cheerleading uniform and with basketball season fast approaching, Quinn seemed to have her eye on an old flame, and coincidently the captain of the basketball team.

Puck watched Rachel extra carefully during the week (all while somehow managing to avoid her at the same time), looking for any indication that she was going to spontaneous combust. Her ex-boyfriend and love of her life was not-so-slowly being wrapped back around the pinkie finger of his former girlfriend, and Rachel had barely bat an eyelash. She didn't just seem unaffected, but she didn't even act surprised. Instead, she suggested to Mr. Schuester that Quinn and Finn be paired up for the halftime show.

After that, Mr. Schuester paired Tina and Mike, Mercedes and Artie, Lauren and Sam and, finally, Rachel and Puck. The last pair was a natural choice, but one that did not go unnoticed by Finn. The choreography called for some pretty suggestive dance steps, the result of which had been a lot of high emotions during the glee rehearsals. They had four days of practice, and each one had ended up in an argument between at least two people. The first had been Quinn and Sam, the next between Puck and Finn. Mr. Schuester and Rachel had argued, and finally, in what was probably the most dramatic of all of them, Finn and Sam exchanged some pretty harsh words.

Perhaps it was for the best that they all had to perform for the halftime show instead of sitting together in the small locker room.

"… so without further ado, I'd like to introduce McKinley High's New Directions."

With the cue from Mr. Schue, the glee kids ran to the makeshift stage in the middle of the field, setting up in their lined up position and bowing their heads. The familiar beat of Michael Jackson's hit was immediately recognized by the crowd, and almost everyone sprung to their feet. When the strum of the guitar started, each of the five girls flung their heads up, crooning the lyrics over the rock hit.

_I know you like me_

_I know you do_

_That's whenever I'm around_

_She's all over you_

_And I know you want it_

_It's easy to see_

_And in the back of your mind_

_I know you should be home with me_

Each girl moved seductively from their partner to the one at their side, Finn and Puck ending up alone while Artie was surrounded by Tina, Mercedes and Lauren. The next verse was a mix of both songs' lyrics, Puck and Finn eventually yanking Rachel and Quinn back to them after doing a few (possibly offensive) dance moves.

_Don'tcha wish your girlfriend was hot like me_

_(Beat it)_

_Don'tcha wish your girlfriend was a freak like me_

_(Beat it)_

_Don'tcha, don'tcha_

_(Beat it, beat it, beat it, beat it)_

_Don'tcha wish your girlfriend was raw like me_

_(Beat it)_

_Don'tcha wish your girlfriend was fun like me_

_(Beat it)_

_Don'tcha, don'tcha_

_(Beat it, beat it, beat it)_

Pressed against his chest tightly, Puck lifted Rachel effortlessly, Finn managing to possess an equal amount of grace with Quinn. The rest of the group performed a rather tiresome dance routine while the guitar solo from "Beat It" played out and the girl's repeated the chorus again. Once it was time for the men to step up and take the reins, Rachel and Quinn had joined the rest of the girls, mimicking the classic moves from Michael Jackson's music video while the boys danced the same steps in front and sung the lyrics.

_Beat it, beat it, beat it, beat it_

_No one wants to be defeated_

_(Don'tcha)_

_Showin' how funky strong is your fight_

_It doesn't matter who's wrong or right_

_Just beat it, beat it, beat it, beat it_

_No one wants to be defeated_

_(Don'tcha)_

_Showin' how funky strong is your fight_

_It doesn't matter who's wrong or right_

_Just beat it_

_(Don'tcha wish your girlfriend was hot like me)_

_Beat it_

_(Don'tcha wish your girlfriend was a freak like me)_

_Beat it_

_(Don'tcha)_

_Showin' how funky strong is your fight_

_(Don'tcha baby)_

_It doesn't matter who's wrong or right_

Ending up back with the partner they started with, the girls swayed to stand in front of the boys. With their backs to the boys' chests, each girl grabbed their partner's hands and dipped dangerously low before delivering the last final line together.

_Don'tcha wish your girlfriend would (beat it)_

To say the crowd erupted in applause would have been an understatement, the sheer volume surrounding the center of the field deafening. Out of breath and sweating quite possibly more than they had been after the first half of the game, the club all managed wide smiles and waved enthusiastically before heading off stage. It would take about ten minutes for the crew to get the field back the way it was, which meant the glee kids playing in the football game had exactly fifteen minutes to change and rest before going out to finish the game.

And despite the questioning glances shared between Puck, Finn, and Sam and the passing looks Rachel got from Finn and Puck, everyone made it back to the bench without so much as a word between them. In almost the same breath, Coach Beiste congratulated the club and demanded they score a touchdown within the first five minutes. Apparently she planned to use the electricity of the crowd and the momentum of the glee kids to make an offensive run. At least that was the only reason to start Rachel that Puck could think of.

"Try not to slip in the mud, Berry."

"I'm more concerned about what they're passing off as mud around here, Noah." Rachel scrunched her nose while looking at the ground, her otherwise pristine uniform a complete contrast to the torn up field. The snow from a few days ago had melted, but the temperature was still relatively cold, so luckily much of the dirt was frozen over. "But thanks for the tip."

"Anytime."

It was quite possibly the longest conversation they'd had outside of the glee rehearsals and football practices, and it left much to be desired. Puck hadn't been able to shake the feeling of Rachel's body next to his, and frankly he didn't want to. Her lips had been softer than he remembered, her body more taunt than it had been last year. And after a fifteen minute performance with her grinding against him in an outfit that looked like it came out of an S&M catalogue, there was little left for Puck's imagination.

Quicker than he anticipated, those two dueling parts of him were merging into one, his desire to be with Rachel outweighing his urge to be the most feared guy on campus. Sure, the slushie facials sucked, but the teachers were pretty understanding when you had to clean yourself up. If he played his cards right, he could miss even more class than he already did. Besides, with Karofsky and the rest of the village people gone, there was a good chance that things at McKinley High School would be more peaceful for the remainder of the year.

"Left! Left!" Anthony yelled, giving the team the direction to defend as he caught the kickoff. He managed to run the ball up the middle to their forty-yard line, the Titans' offensive line charging the field with newfound spirit. Coach Beiste called for a quarterback sneak, and Sam actually ran the ball twenty yards. After that he threw a short pass to Tina, who ran out of bounds to avoid getting hit. The next play was meant to be slant pass to one of the other wide receivers, but the opposing team blitzed, catching Sam off guard.

In haste, he pitched the ball to the closest person, who just happened to be Rachel. She had no idea what to do, as her job on the field had so far been catching the ball near the sideline so she could step out of play and out of danger. In the middle of the field, she was like a sitting duck, at least three defensive players crossing the line of scrimmage and tackling her to the ground with inhibited ferocity. Rachel managed to keep the ball secure in her grip, but she yelled out in pain when the last of the three added his weight to the assault.

Puck quickly made his way to the pile, practically peeling the other players off of Rachel's tiny frame, nearly throwing the last (and the first to hit her) one ten feet by just his jersey. He carefully removed her helmet, moving her bangs away from her forehead to see if her eyes were open. To his surprise, she was looking right at him, albeit a little dazed.

"What the hell, Sam?" Finn said, pushing the smaller player back. "What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking I had an entire defensive line coming my way and I should get rid of the ball."

"So you hike it to Rachel?"

"I didn't think about it being Rachel," Sam argued back, taking a step forward to eliminate Finn's dominance. They might have been friends before, but now that the triangle between them and Quinn had been formed, Sam obviously felt the need to exude some sort of confidence. "I was thinking this was a football game and when the sack's coming, you flick the ball!"

"If you're going to be quarterback, you have to think about your surroundings and …"

"Make up your mind, Finn. Are you pissed I'm quarterback or are you possed Rachel got hurt?"

"Both of you shut up!" Puck growled, helping Rachel to her feet with one hand while his face was turned toward the two boys. "You guys can fight over who's getting into Quinn's pants after the game. Right now you need to run the ball," he said while pushing the football to Sam's chest, "and you need to block your damn side," he finished, pointing to Finn. Sam gave an unintelligible mumble in response and Finn muttered whether Rachel was OK. She responded in kind with a quiet squeak, everyone setting back up for the same play, this time with better results but still not enough to score.

By the end of the game, Finn had scored the only touchdown for McKinley in a dramatic trick play at the end of the fourth quarter. And even though the Titans had lost by nearly thirty points, the touchdown managed to lift everyone's spirits. The crowd went wild, jumping up and down in celebration, and even the players felt proud of what they had accomplished. Coach Beiste gave a quick inspirational speech about teamwork and family (Puck quick to joke that he was obviously adopted) and then everyone went their separate ways.

Some went to shower while others hung around and chatted with friends on the other team or in the crowd. Rachel was actually receiving a congratulatory hug from Kurt when she spotted Finn on the sidelines. He and Quinn were smiling softly at each other, and about the same time Kurt introduced her to Blaine, Finn leaned in and kissed Quinn. Rachel shook Blaine's hand with a smile and took Kurt's comment about her needing to hurry up to the showers in stride, quickly finding herself all alone and still watching the once ex-couple reunite.

"I guess Finn won," Puck commented flatly, both their eyes moving to Sam's slumped form as he walked off the field and toward the locker room.

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice low but without any trace of jealousy or spite. "If it's any consolation, I think she made the wrong choice."

"You think she's better off with Sam?"

"What?" Rachel knitted her eyebrows together, looking up at him in confusion. "No. He's a pig." Her next comment forced Puck to keep his comment about her being a cheating hypocrite to himself. "I meant you."

"Me?" Puck shook his head, feeling like he was a broken record in front of her. "Quinn and I are not meant to be." He watched her bite her lip, and somehow managed to push the dirty thought aside to continue the conversation. "I'm not saying she and Finn are either, but they definitely have a better chance than we ever did."

They didn't talk for a long while, both just watching the two in the distance. Finn took Quinn's hand hesitantly, and she smiled softly before leaning her head against his arm. They walked all the way to the locker room entrance, parting with yet another chaste kiss and what looked to be a promise to meet up again later. Everyone else was headed to a local pizza joint to celebrate their loss (did that sound retarded to anyone else but him?), but something written on both their faces led both Puck and Rachel to believe that Finn and Quinn would be spending the evening somewhere a little more quiet.

"You're not going to go all _Fatal Attraction _on them, are you?"

Rachel rolled her eyes, moving her helmet to her other hand as she looked up at him. "While I imagine you'd find some sick pleasure in that, I am perfectly fine with this development." It was Puck's turn to roll his eyes, to which Rachel shoved him for playfully. "I mean it. I was devastated when Finn and I broke up, but I told you I spent the break really thinking about everything and evaluating my life."

"Is this going to be the story about growing up again?"

She sighed, looking more exhausted from talking to him than she looked throughout the entire football game. "Yes. I feel like I've grown up tremendously this past year, some of that no doubt a result of my relationship with Finn, the good and the bad." Rachel again looked forward, Finn and Quinn gone but still somehow in front of her eyes. "Clearly Finn hasn't grown up, though. He still needs the attention, relying on having the perfect girlfriend and the captain status to make him feel like he's worthy." She shrugged sadly. "I'm not denying that he had true feelings for me, but if he can find it within himself to forgive Quinn when he can still barely look at me without thinking about what you and I did, then obviously it has more to do with me than it does you."

"He'll regret it eventually, you know?" He didn't know why he said it, why he was trying to make her feel better by letting her think there was hope for a Finchel future. Just the thought made his blood boil, and yet he couldn't stop the words from forming. "When Quinn starts bitchin' about his clothes and school and shit like that, he'll think about how great he had it with you."

"Well, thank you, Noah." Rachel smiled shyly, her head bowing in kind. "But I'm not crazy enough to think I'm any less demanding."

"It's nice to hear your crazy has limitations." She giggled at his joke, stepping in sync with him on the way to the locker rooms. There was a lull in silence that passed before Puck spoke again. "But I doubt your demands are as petty as Quinn's." He looked away then, prepared to say the next sentence but not prepared to see her reaction to it. "You're just trying to bring out the best in people."

"I have it under pretty good authority that you don't need cohered into being a good person, Noah."

He instantly grew uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was headed. It was like they were back in her bedroom again, only now his hard on was the result of an odd fantasy with the locker room and Rachel in nothing but those cleats instead of the heavy making out from before. So much for good person.

"And don't bother trying to deny me, either, because if you weren't a good person, you wouldn't still be honoring some unwritten code between friends." She bit her lip but continued looking at him. "Friends who for the most part haven't had a civil conversation in almost a month."

Puck stared at her, stared into those deep chocolate eyes and wished he could read her mind. Rachel never said anything in passing, everything having some hidden meaning or agenda. But what could it be? What was she trying to tell him?

"I guess you're rubbing off on me, Berry." He shrugged casually, thinking it was safe to assume she was looking for a compliment. It was Rachel Berry after all. Compliments were like oxygen to her.

"Yea." She frowned, her shoulders slumping as her chin dipped down. "I guess you're turning soft."

Puck's stare grew cold, watching Rachel lift her head defiantly through slits. He didn't dare say a word, but rather demanded an explanation with just his eyes. No one called Noah Puckerman soft and got away with it. Especially not the girl who was walking evidence of just how _hard_ he could be.

"It's fine, Noah. Honorable, even. You're growing up and maturing." She shrugged casually, walking away from him then but throwing one last comment over her shoulder. "I shouldn't expect for you still to be the same guy who would just take what he wanted, everything else be damned."

The click of her cleats on the walkway toward the girls' locker room punctuated each of Puck's passing thoughts. Did Rachel just curse? She thought he was mature? Was she swaying her hips more on purpose? She expected him to take what he wanted? Did she _know_ what he wanted? Was she_ challenging _him?

"Berry!" His voice roared in the empty space, his helmet falling with a crash to the ground as he took the ten or so quick strides it took to make up the distance she had set between them. She turned around quickly, her back pressing against the brick wall of the building and her eyes lifting up to his. This time he saw what she wasn't saying, could read her mind clearly. "I ain't fuckin' soft."

And with that, he crashed his lips against hers.

* * *

Author's Note: If you are having trouble picturing the halftime performance I came up with, go to YouTube and type in "Don'tcha wanna beat it" and you'll get a pretty good idea of what I was going for.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: All done with the last part, and hopefully you all enjoy it. This chapter is really ephasized on what I've drawn up as the softer side of Puck, but I think it is still pretty close to character (just the part of his character the writers haven't really shown us yet but I know is there). Thank you everyone for the support and encouragement. It means a lot to me!

* * *

Puck strode confidently down the main corridor of McKinley High, his arm draped loosely over Rachel's shoulders. The pair earned some passing looks from other students, all the girls scowling at Rachel. She didn't seem phased by the new attention, though, continuing to hammer on about … something or other. He'd stopped listening (yes, he'd started) somewhere between locker numbers 300 and 500 when he realized her blouse was buttoned low enough that he could see the valley of her breasts from his spot next to her.

"See you in glee?" She asked hopefully while turning out of his embrace, his left side suddenly chilly. There was a draft now that her tiny body wasn't nestled against him, and he didn't like it. "Noah?"

He realized he was scowling at her for no particular reason and recovered as quickly as he could by nodding softly. She hesitated for a beat, looked around the hall for another moment, and then back at him. When she angled her chin higher, her face more directly facing his, Puck panicked.

"I'll even sit next to you."

She smiled, though not the full-out grin he'd received after their embrace last Friday, and went into her classroom. Puck stayed in the hallway long after the last bell rang, wondering what (yet again) he had missed. If it wasn't the less than subtle crossing of a woman's legs, Puck wasn't really good with body language. He was a direct guy who needed direct answers. He needed precise directions, and he figured Rachel would be the one girl who would be more than willing to oblige him. Plus, she could totally do it without seeming like a crazy bitch (ie: Quinn).

However, ever since Friday, Puck just felt more and more confused when he was with her. He'd taken her to the pizza place to hang out with everyone after the game, and even though they sat all the way across from one another at opposite heads of the table, they kept finding each other's eyes during the conversations. And when he'd taken her home, she'd leaned over the console of his truck and kissed him right on the lips before hopping out and running into her house.

On Saturday his mom made him spend the day "resting" in the name of their religion. He figured Rachel's dads were probably making her do the same since they'd both missed temple, so he didn't even bother calling her. And then on Sunday, when he'd texted her to see if she wanted to come over to suck face, she didn't even answer, but she didn't seem pissed when he'd called her this morning to see if she had a ride to school.

Walking into the choir room for glee rehearsal, Puck decided Rachel seriously needed to come with an instruction manual.

"What the hell is this I hear about you and the midget?" Santana got right in Puck's face, the latter barely past the piano before being attacked by the Latina. "Is it part of your community service?"

"No." Puck side-stepped Santana, not surprised when she reappeared in front of him, stopping his forward progress. He might have trouble figuring out Rachel sometimes, but he had memorized Santana's playbook a long time ago.

"So is it a joke? Are you planning something epic? I can keep a secret!" Santana's eyes lit up like she'd just found out her father was getting her seven new cars, one for each day of the week. And for the first time in maybe his whole life, Puck was ashamed of himself. He never thought he was good enough, and definitely had some regrets, but right then he was _ashamed_ that he ever was anything like the girl standing before him.

"Noah?"

He turned at her questioning voice, closing his eyes at the look on her face. She tried to hide it, but he could tell, could see the pain flash through the orbs. It was weird, really, to know her so well and not at all in the same day. Hell, sometimes it was true in the same minute.

"Hey." His voice was soft, very un-Puck-like as he grabbed one of her hands away from where they were wringing in front of her body. She had nothing to be nervous about. "Let's sit down."

She nodded happily, her lip lost between two rows of white teeth even as her lips curved into a smile. Silently they compromised on a spot in the back row but in the center. Rachel talked about her afternoon classes while he listened, both of them trying not to pay attention to the heavy stares issued by Santana and then Brittany while they waited for the rest of the glee club to show up.

"Alright!" Mr. Schuester clapped his hands together, effectively quieting the tangent conversations in the room and bringing the attention to himself. "Last week's performance was fun, but we need to get back on track. Regionals is less than a month away, and now's the time we really need to buckle down."

"Mr. Schuester is right!" Rachel stated, standing up from her seat next to Puck and joining Mr. Schue by the piano. "Vocal Adrenaline aside, Kurt and the rest of the Warblers have been improving with each passing day and we need to keep our focus if we really want to make it to Nationals this year." She pressed her palm to her heart, her eyes scanning the room. "While I'm destined to spend a good portion of my insanely successful career in New York, for many of you this competition could be your only opportunity to see the Big Apple."

"I think what Rachel is trying to say is that the other groups aren't just going to give it to us because we want to win." Mr. Schuester touched the girl's shoulder softly, pushing her lightly back toward her seat by Puck.

She had a wide smile on her face and he reciprocated it even though he was the only one. Everyone else was either scowling or rolling their eyes, depending on whether they were upset or just used to Rachel by now. Puck might want an instruction manual for her, but she severely needed one for society in general.

Step 1: People don't like it when you point out everything they won't accomplish in their lives.

"If we want to take the trophy home, we're going to have to work really hard this month. And with Valentine's Day around the corner, I figure this week's assignment is obvious." Mr. Schuester quickly turned and faced the dry erase board, popping the top off his marker and pressing the writing instrument against the flat surface. Writing over the letters several times in an effort to bold them, he finished by drawing a heart around the small word and then turned around. "Love."

"Is for suckers," Santana sneered.

"And that's a perfectly fine opinion to have, Santana." Mr. Schuester replaced the cap on the marker, tossing it carelessly on top of the piano while he rested his elbows against the black, shiny surface. "Love, like many things, doesn't mean the same thing to every person. For some it is about friendship, for some it's about one person, and for others it is about multiple people."

The members of glee club took time to evaluate the others in the group, the dynamic of love a frightening concept in such an incestuous group. Between Finn and Rachel, Finn and Quinn, Quinn and Sam, Mike and Tina, Tina and Artie, Artie and Brittany, Brittany and Santana, and Santana and … well … everyone, the performances could go a lot of ways, probably for each person. It was all dependent on their mood at that particular moment.

"And that is the exact reason why this will be an individual assignment." A few people groaned, apparently their initial ideas lost after that condition. "I really want you guys to look inside yourselves and pick a song that means something, one that tells a story."

Without much left to say, Mr. Schuester clapped his hands together again, signaling they could start their planning. Puck followed Rachel as she shot up from her seat, walking over to Mercedes and Artie. The two girls were comparing diva notes – apparently they didn't want to end up coming prepared to sing the same song (glee clubs equivalent to wearing the same dress at the Oscars) – while Artie asked Puck if he was ready for basketball season now that football was done.

Puck shrugged in disinterest, his head turning slightly to the left to look back at Finn. He was still sitting next to Quinn, but his eyes were on Rachel. Puck smiled. He might not be the football captain or the basketball star, but he did have something very coveted. So he slid his arm across her shoulders, tossing Finn a knowing smirk before answering a question from Lauren, who had joined their circle while he wasn't paying attention.

Apparently she was nervous about performing in front of everyone for the first time, and Rachel and Mercedes were giving her tips. It was weird to picture Lauren as shy, as she almost seemed more badass than even Puck. Her song choice – "Love Stinks" by The J. Gelis Band – was pretty rock and roll, and Puck would have remembered that he wanted to be her friend if he wasn't so focused on Rachel at that moment.

He couldn't get over how comfortable his arm was secured over her shoulders, as if it was the most natural resting spot for the appendage. Plus, depending on how he positioned said arm, he could easily cover her mouth with his hand if she was talking too much or he could reach down and grab her boob. There were definitely some advantages to having a short … uh … person? Kissing partner? Girlfriend?

Shit.

"Rachel, could we talk?" Finn approached the pair urgently, his hands stuffed deep into his pockets as his gaze moved back and forth between Rachel and Puck. The taller boy's eyes softened when he looked at his former girlfriend, and hardened when staring at what Puck knew would be _former_ best friend if this thing with Rachel ended up really happening (which it might not considering his huge lapse in protocol).

"Sure," she agreed in a breathless manner, a strange feeling coursing through Puck's stomach. He'd felt jealousy before, obviously. His entire demeanor between Quinn and Finn last year had been tinged in green, but this was different. This was stronger, more volatile than he ever imagined possible.

He didn't want to just push Finn away from Rachel and tell him to get lost. He wanted to rip his eyes out and tell him never to look at his girl like that again. He wanted to find that stupid Finn necklace Rachel had specially made and melt it into a gold coin that just said, "Fuck you" on it and give it to him. Or take the necklace and choke him with it. That would be cool, too.

"Actually," he decided to take a more mature route (that was why Rachel was by his side right then to begin with, right? Because he was growing up?), and used his words instead of his fists. "Could we talk, too?" He looked at Finn just as icily as Finn had been looking at him. "First?"

"Uh …" she trailed off, looking back and forth between the two men. They were still staring at one another, the silent showdown accomplishing nothing other than starting a dull ache in both of Puck's temples. "This is very unusual. Normally no one wants to talk to me."

"I'm sure he can wait." Finn pointed to Puck, his attention back on Rachel. "Mine's pretty important, and won't take long."

"You're the expert on finishing quickly," Puck joked, sulking maybe just a little when Rachel allowed Finn to lead her out of the choir room. He didn't need to follow to know what the conversation was about. But he also didn't want to sit there while Santana glowered at him the whole time, trying to light him on fire with just her mind.

"Puck, I trust you'll be able to keep the streak alive and find an appropriate song from a fellow Jewish musician?" Mr. Schuester asked comically, more than likely noticing the teen's unusually sour demeanor. Puck tried to appear hard on the outside, but he wasn't a bad person. Mr. Schuester knew this, and had been keeping an extra watchful eye on him ever since he got back from juvie. In fact, Puck and Mr. Schue were pretty tight, the latter sort of like a mentor to Puck.

Dude didn't know shit about women and his life seemed to overall suck, but he was good people.

"My people haven't let me down yet, Mr. Schue." He grinned and strutted outside the choir room, claiming to need to use the restroom before walking out. Puck stopped after only a few steps past the door frame when he heard the growing voices of Finn and Rachel.

"I know what you're doing and it is not going to work."

"What am I doing, Finn? Please tell me. You seem to have all the answers lately."

"You're trying to make me jealous." Puck's jaw tightened in response to Finn's arrogance, but then he considered his words. It wouldn't have been the first time Rachel had used Puck to make Finn jealous. Hell, it wouldn't even be the second time. "You think if I see you and Puck together, I'll dump Quinn and get back together with you."

"While I just love the portrait you have of me in your mind, you couldn't be further from the truth."

"So, what?" Finn rolled his eyes, his hands back inside his pockets. "You're like … into Puck now?"

"Whether or not that is true is between Noah and me." Rachel bowed her head, Puck hearing the hesitance in her tone. She didn't want to say anything definite because he had been an idiot and hadn't realized they hadn't made anything official. "You and I … we were a nice story, the quarterback dating the choir girl. But … we aren't good together." Rachel lifted her eyes back to Finn's, and Puck wished he could see the expression on her face at that moment. "And you can't keep doing this."

"This what?" He pouted.

"You can't have both of us," she stated clearly, not wanting to mix words. "If you love Quinn and are dating her again, then don't expect me to sit on the sidelines and watch."

"And if I pick you?"

Rachel had started to turn around after her statement, but then Finn's words stopped her dead in her tracks. Halfway turned, she could see both boys in her periphery. Puck was standing as still as stone by the choir room door, and Finn was still holding the same position he had since she'd basically called him out on his selfishness. It was her call.

"You'd still want her." Slowly she turned back toward Finn, meeting his gaze with as much understanding as she could muster up. "And that isn't fair to me, or her." She shrugged sadly, Puck knowing that she didn't really have a problem with Quinn anymore. "I don't want to just be wanted. I want to be needed."

Rachel lifted on her tiptoes and kissed Finn on the cheek, only able to reach because of his suddenly slumped position. Puck tried not to show any emotion on his face, but when Rachel turned and walked closer to him, he couldn't help but smile back at her. She didn't just make him act differently, but she made him feel different, too.

No matter how shitty his day was going, whenever he saw her, she made it better. Whether she was talking his ear off about something utterly unimportant or if she was just smiling back at him, it fixed everything. He hadn't noticed before because he was so wrapped up on Quinn and in the social caste system that was high school, but Rachel was the only person in his life who made him feel good about himself. She was always pushing him to be better, but she never judged him for his past.

"Time for our talk?"

Puck considered his options, thinking about everything he wanted to say to her in that short amount of time he'd been listening her talk with Finn. All her seemingly odd behavior from this weekend made complete sense now, and he wanted to tell her that he wasn't using her either. He wanted her to know that she was his girl, and he wasn't playing games anymore.

"Or we could do something else besides talk." Puck waggled his eyebrows at her, smirking into her giggle.

It was good that she was used to him by now because those types of comments weren't going to stop just because they were dating. In fact, considering the correlation between the boyfriend-girlfriend label and the frequency of make-out sessions, Puck figured those comments would only increase.

"Inside," she demanded, pushing against his chest and walking back into the choir room. Puck stopped before the chairs, stopping Rachel's ascent to their seats softly by her hand.

"Actually," Puck cleared his throat, looking away from her and over at Mr. Schue. "If it's OK with you, Mr. Schuester, I'd like to go today."

"You have a song already?" He nodded quickly, his eyes moving back to Rachel's. She blushed under his scrutiny and sat down in the seat directly across from the stool Mr. Schuester moved toward the center of the room. Puck grabbed his acoustic guitar and quickly tuned the instrument, taking slow, deep breaths to calm his nerves. He'd serenaded her before, but he was putting a lot on the line this time.

And Joshua Radin wasn't exactly the stud Neil Diamond was, either.

_Baby you_

_You got what I need_

_Baby you_

_You got my sunshine_

_Baby you_

_You got what I need_

_Baby you_

_You got my sunshine_

_When I see you_

_It's a beautiful world_

_But when you're gone_

_I want you in my arms_

_I'm telling you for the last time_

_Baby you_

_You got what I need_

_Baby you_

_You got my sunshine_

_Every night_

_I notice you're all alone_

_One day you might_

_Let me love you_

_I'm on fire_

_Can't you feel my desire?_

_I want to take you higher_

_It's a simplest thing_

_Always so hard to see_

_That I want to be_

_The one and only_

_Making you feel love_

_Oh darling I need love_

_It's all I can dream of_

_Baby you_

_You got what I need_

_Baby you_

_You got my sunshine_

_Baby you_

_You got what I need_

_Baby you_

_You got my sunshine_

_You got_

_My sunshine_

When Puck finished the last chord, he lifted his eyes off the fret of his guitar and moved them to Rachel, surprised to see she was already out of her seat. Before he could even say anything, her lips were on his, and he was reminded of the embrace in her bedroom last week. Passion.

Mr. Schuester cleared his throat after a few beats, the rest of the club apparently already gone. Their teacher praised Puck's performance before meandering to his classroom, giving the pair some privacy. If it hadn't been Rachel, Puck knew Mr. Schue would have issued a warning that he was only right down the hall (read: no funny business).

"I know it might sound a little soft, but," he hesitated for only a moment, more just trying to regain his breath than anything, "will you be my girlfriend?"

She responded with another scorching kiss, which was answer enough in Puck's world. Because even though he'd used a song to tell her how much she meant to him and how much he needed her, her kiss told him the same thing.

And it was nice to be needed.

* * *

Author's Note: The song is Joshua Radin's "You Got What I Need" from his The Rock and the Tide album. If you don't already know it, please youtube it. He's amazing.


End file.
